


Halos and Hubris

by Sonderlust45



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, But they're actually in love with each other, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Jon and Sansa Are Not Related, Jon and Sansa are Fuckbuddies, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Jon Snow, Shameless Smut, They just haven't figured their shit out yet, in every sense of the word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-10 20:23:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20534069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonderlust45/pseuds/Sonderlust45
Summary: “You wanna come in, have a beer?” He asked, gesturing to the kitchen of the apartment.“Sure.”I should say no, I should go home.But he was looking at her the same way she was looking at him. His eyes were wide and dark as storm clouds, searching for her acceptance.Sansa walked past him into the apartment, letting her fingers graze his arm as he closed the door behind her. He gave her a stare and licked his lips as he locked the door.You’re playing with fire.





	1. You will do for now

**Author's Note:**

> Title from you will do for now by hey marseilles

Sansa stood in the hallway of the old apartment building where her brother Robb, and his best friend Jon lived. She stared down at the old frayed carpet, and the scratches on the door from when Robb and Jon had bashed their couch against it when they moved in last year. She had stood in the corner of the hallway, giving them instructions on how to tilt the couch just right so it would fit. Obviously, they hadn’t listened to her the first time, and the couch’s legs had scraped and scratched the paint off the door.

She had laughed at them then, and they had both stared back at her, daggers in their eyes.

“Your sister’s too smart for her own good,” Jon had spat out, his voice gruff, but his eyes twinkling with mirth. Sansa had smiled widely back at him, her heart doing that weird swooping thing it always did when Jon smiled at her.

“She’s not half as smart as she thinks she is,” Robb shot back, twisting the couch in his hands. “Let’s get on with it, this damn thing is too heavy and I’m losing grip.” So heavy that both of them were coated in a fine sheen of sweat, Jon’s curly locks stuck to the back of his neck and his forehead. She had wanted to brush them out of his face, but knew she couldn’t.

Sansa had felt deflated in that moment, her cheeks reddening in embarrassment at Robb's words. Sure enough though, when they tilted the couch as she suggested, it went through the door and into the apartment with no problem.

Afterwards, when they sat around eating pizza and drinking beer, Jon had leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Don’t listen to Robb, you’re the smartest person I know.” His voice was low and gravely, and his breath tickled her neck, sending a shiver down her back that pooled down low within her.

Had it begun then? Or was it later? She wasn’t sure.

She knocked on the door to the apartment, surprised to find Jon open the door almost immediately. She bit her lip and fidgeted. “Is Robb here?”

Jon sighed and opened the door wider. “He’s away at Jeyne’s for the weekend, remember?” She gulped. Of course she remembered. He knew she remembered too, but what else could she have done? Admitted that she was there for him? No, that would be too much, too forward. That wasn’t what this was. This was about convenience, scratching an itch, wasn’t it? He looked at her implacable expression and raised an eyebrow.

“You wanna come in, have a beer?” He asked, gesturing to the kitchen of the apartment.

_No, I want you. I want my hands in your hair, and your head between my legs._ Her mind wandered to last month when he had sat her on the breakfast bar and fucked her right there. She felt her breathing deepen, knew she was staring at him.

“Sure.” _I should say no, I should go home. _But he was looking at her the same way she was looking at him, like he'd finally found a place to call home, and who needs to know but them that that place was between her thighs?

His eyes were dark as storm clouds and wide, searching for her acceptance. Sansa walked past him into the apartment, letting her fingers graze his arm as he closed the door behind her. He gave her a stare and licked his lips as he locked the door.

_You’re playing with fire._

She sits herself down at the breakfast bar, beside the spot where he had brought her to orgasm twice not a month ago. Sansa looks up to see him looking at that same spot as well, fighting back a smirk. 

He goes to the fridge, grabbing two beers and opening them. He shoves one across the bar towards her and stands on the other side directly across from her.

He’s only wearing jeans and a black tee, but gods he looks so handsome. His hair is wild and free, errant curls hanging in his face. His beard is longer than it was last year — apparently grad school _does things _to people. Things that make him look darker, almost dangerous. And that’s what this thing is all about, really. There are dozens of guys she could be using to scratch this particular itch, but it has to be Jon. It can only be him.

Maybe it’s the thrill of knowing they could get caught by Robb, or maybe it’s the thrill that she gets from fucking an older guy. It’s only three years, but it could be enough. 

But no, it’s something else. It’s the way he looks at her — like he’s a wolf, and she’s his prey. Like he’s hunting her. Dark eyes staring into her soul, fixing her in place.

It’s the way his beard feels against her neck when he nuzzles into her, and the way his biceps feel against her fingers when she grabs his arms. It’s his chest against hers when he corners her, and the way he whines like a puppy when she starts to unzip his jeans, and she falls to her knees in front of him.

“How’s school going?” She asks, picking at the label of her beer.

He lets out a bark of a laugh and leans forward over the breakfast bar. “Bloody awful. And you?”

She bites her lip, he’s not making it easy today. “I’m just happy I graduate this year and it’ll be over.” _And then what happens? Do I leave? Do I stay? _

Neither of them will admit that this thing they’re doing is more, means more than just fucking each other once or twice a month. But how do you say that? How do they stop using each other like this? 

You can’t when it’s this easy, this _good._ It’s like putting a feast in front of a starving man and telling him not to eat. The smell of Jon; worn leather and crisp pine trees, is like oxygen to her. If she goes too long without him, she can feel it itching in her fingers and her toes, feel the tingling deep down low, until it turns to an ache.

Gods know she’s tried to stop, and he has too. When they’re done, and she gets up and gets dressed, tying up her long auburn hair and throwing back on her rumpled clothes — that’s when she feels the worst. 

When she looks back at him on the bed, and his face is hard and unyielding, as if he wants her gone. But they keep coming back to each other all the same. Some part of her wonders if this is hurting him as much as her, but she’s too afraid to ask, too afraid to ruin this fragile thing they have.

He leans closer over the counter, and she can smell the yeast on his breath from his beer, soft and a little sour. “You gonna move back home when you’re done?” His dark grey eyes are fixed on hers, and she feels like she can’t breathe.

“I haven’t really given it much thought yet.” _I want to stay with you. I want you to ask me to stay._ She takes a gulp of her beer and avoids his gaze, the one that can see through everything she says. 

“I was thinking I might do grad school too, you know I’m a glutton for punishment.” Sansa’s face reddens as she realizes what she’s said, what she shouldn’t have said.

A smirk passes by his face as his eyes pass down from her eyes to her lips and down lower. She knows he’s checking her out, and she knows she’s worn his favourite dress. It’s black and tight in all the right places, and loose and flowing at the bottom, so he can peel her panties down easily. He bites his own lip, and his grip on his beer bottle tightens.

“Yeah, I know. You know I am too.” He finishes his beer in a single swig and walks around the bar to where she sits. The closer he gets, the faster her heart beats, like a rabbit being chased. Jon’s hand rests on her bare thigh now, and his hand is on the bar, trying at restraint. As if either of them had ever been good at that.

Sansa can’t help it, her hand moves without will or volition to brush his curls from his face. It’s an intimate act, one she shouldn’t engage in. He turns to the touch of her hand, and clasps it in his, pressing a soft kiss to her pulse point, and she feels her heart stop. She can’t help but rub her thighs together to give some relief to the throbbing wetness. His hand is still gripping her thigh, and he must know what she is feeling, how could he not?

His hand starts to trail up under her dress, while his other is still clasping hers to his face. He looks enraptured and angry and lost at the same time. “I need you to tell me you want this. Gods, tell me this is okay.” His voice is strained, and Sansa knows he’s holding himself back now.

“I want whatever you’ll give me.” Her voice is breathy, as though she’s run a marathon.

Jon lets out a sound almost like a growl and thrusts his hand up to her panties, and pushes them aside. “You shouldn’t talk like that Sansa, you’d give a man the wrong idea.”

She lets out a moan as one of his fingers thrusts up into her, curling to hit that _perfect _spot, the spot he knew was there before she ever did. Sansa grips the chair she’s sitting on with her other hand, Jon still having her other indisposed, now gently kissing each of her fingers and up her arm. 

“Always so wet for me, aren’t you Sansa?” His voice is thick with want, his pupils blown so wide they've swallowed up his irises altogether.

She pulls her hands to his head, bringing him in desperately for a kiss. He acquiesces, leaning in over her, and kissing her deep and long. His lips are warm and soft and pouty, and his mouth tastes faintly of beer and the mint gum he must have been chewing before she showed up. His tongue probes the inside of her mouth, possessing her completely, as he inserts a second finger into her. She arches into him, crying out with how good it feels.

It’s like she’s on fire, molten flames in her veins, and tingling in her toes. “Take your panties off,” he whispers in her ear, teasing and tickling the skin of her neck. She shudders under him, under his words and commanding tone.

“Only if you take your shirt off.” She smiles as she stands, and lets her panties drop to the floor, stifling a giggle as he seems to growl again possessively. He rips the black shirt from his body, revealing his hard chest. Before she can reach out and let her fingers dance along the hills and valleys of his muscles, his hands reach around her waist and throw her back on the bar, just like he did last time.

She knows she shouldn’t like him fucking her here, like this. Not in Robb’s apartment, not in the kitchen. But that kind of makes it better, and he seems to know that too. He lifts the skirt of her dress to leave her body exposed, revealing the small triangle of auburn curls that she left for him, just like he likes. Another audible groan escapes his lips.

“You’re killing me, Sansa,” he murmurs, as he descends down to lick at her embarrassingly wet pussy. He starts by licking her folds gently, then inserts his fingers into her again, causing her to moan and clench around him. Then his mouth moves to her nub, softly licking and sucking at her until she can’t take it anymore.

Before she knows it, she’s reaching her peak, clenching around his head and tongue and fingers, letting out a not so silent scream. Her body feels soft and tingly, and Jon has to hold her up on the bar to stop her sliding off. He stands back up, wiping his face with his bare arm.

_He’ll be the death of me, and I’ll die happy_, she thinks, staring at his tightly muscled body, his strong arms, and the way he’s looking at her. “Please,” is all she can manage, before he pulls her back to him, kissing her harshly, biting at her lip. He pulls her legs around his waist, and carries her like that to his bedroom, throwing her on the bed roughly.

“How do you want it, sweet girl?” He murmurs in her ear, knowing the effect his breath on the nape of her neck has. He licks up and down her neck and bites down hard, leaving bruises. He sucks and laps at her and she knows she’ll have to wear a scarf for a week, but gods it’s worth it, to feel this good.

“Hard.” She whimpers out, and she can feel him grinning against her neck. He rips his jeans off while she takes her dress and bra off. Now they’re both naked before each other, and it somehow feels more intimate now, like there can’t be any secrets, not like this.

“Why are you so beautiful,” he breathes out, closing the distance between them, pulling her into him. Sansa kisses him then, letting her own tongue explore his mouth, relishing in the feel of his hand on her breasts, her ass, pulling her head closer to him. 

Jon pushes her to the bed, and positions himself at her entrance. In a second, he is pushing into her with his thick length, and she feels so full it’s almost painful.

Sansa cries out in ecstasy, reaching out to pull him towards her. His cock is now fully within her, stretching her. “Why do you feel so good.” She breathes out in response, the feeling of his thrusts causing her toes to curl. She lifts her legs to wrap around his waist, allowing him to thrust even deeper. His thrusts are so deep and hard that it hurts in the most delicious way, and Sansa can already feel herself building to another peak.

Once more, “please” is all she can say, hoping he knows what she needs, digging her fingernails into his hard back.

“Gods, so good.” He pushes her hard into the bed with his body, enveloping her completely. His hand reaches down to her nub, rubbing at her fast and rough. “You gonna come for me again, Sansa? You gonna come around my cock?”

She can’t help but moan from his words. He knows that those filthy words make her blush, and make her even wetter at the same time. How can something affect her in two so different ways? She cries out loudly, wholly affected by his words and his eyes and his cock. 

“You’re gonna wake up the whole neighbourhood, sweet girl. We wouldn’t want that, would we? Good girls aren’t this loud are they?” This time when she comes, she does scream, and Jon slaps his hand over her mouth when she does, muffling her cries.

When she comes, her pussy clenches so hard around his cock that he follows her, pumping his seed deep into her, groaning in pleasure.

In their afterglow, Sansa lies with her head on Jon’s chest, feeling his heartbeat gradually slow. It’s reassuring and consistent, like his breath against her hair, and she wraps her arms tightly around him, wishing this moment won’t ever end. But it has too, and soon she’ll have to go, like she always does.

She lifts her head up, and begins to pull away, grasping for her bra. Jon’s arms reach out and pull her back to him, nuzzling against her breasts. His breath is warm and his hair against her skin feels silky soft. “Please don’t go, not yet, please.” His voice is so soft she can barely hear it. She lets her body fall into his, trying not to overanalyze his request.

“Do you want to,” she twists her mouth. “Do you want to fuck again?” _Why are you so bad at this, _she thinks to herself, cringing.

Jon shakes his head side to side, nuzzling deeper into her. She can feel him breathing her scent in, as though he’s enraptured by her. 

“No.” He laughs into her, causing her to giggle too. “I mean, yes, but not yet, not right now.” He places a kiss to her temple, to her forehead, to her nose. “For now, would you just stay with me?”

And maybe, that’s enough, for now.


	2. Someone to love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tooth-rotting fluff and utter smut ahead. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who commented and left kudos, your responses have inspired me to write a conclusion! I hope it does justice to what you've all imagined =)

It's the sound of the apartment door closing that wakes Sansa up. She slowly comes to, groggy and unaware. She smells pine and leather and Jon all over. It’s a delicious scent, and she stretches her muscles languidly, drinking it in, until she realizes that she is not alone in this bed. She's still in bed with Jon, her head on his pillow. _Oh no._

She feels Jon's arms holding her close to him, one of his legs slumped over hers. His breathing is slow and even and his face is relaxed, and blessedly, finally at peace. He looks younger and more innocent than she has ever seen him.

_But the door._

_Sansa, the door._

_Robb... Robb!_

It's as though a bucket of ice water has been dumped on her, and she shoots up as quickly as she can, trying to catch her bearings.

She tries desperately to disentangle herself from his limbs, but he's too heavy, and he's so warm.

"Sans?" He begins to stir, his voice hoarse with sleep. "What's wrong?"

"Robb," she hisses, as quietly and fervently as she can.

For a second, Jon's eyes open wide as dinner plates, before he collects himself. "Bedroom door's locked, he won't know you're here," he murmurs, nosing at her neck and making her bite her lip.

"I left my jacket in the kitchen."

"Does he know it's yours?" He whispers, pulling himself away.

"I don't know."

They both pull the blankets up to cover themselves at the sound of a sudden knock to the door.

The door handle begins to turn.

Sansa's heart skips a beat.

The door handle stops, the lock prevents it from opening. She says a quiet prayer of thanks to the old gods and the new.

"Hey Jon? The power went out at Jeyne's, so we're just here having a shower." Robb's voice rings clear through the door. "We'll be out of your hair soon." She can hear the mirth in his voice. _He knows. He knows something, but what?_

They hear the sounds of the bathroom door closing and the shower starting, but neither of them know what to do next. _I've never stayed overnight before, that's not what this is._

She is frozen, fixed in place, the blankets pulled over her naked body, as if there is any modesty left between them.

Jon clears his throat, his adams apple bobs up and down. He's looking at her with those dark grey eyes that see everything, and she's so scared of what he's going to say.

_You need to go_, or _why are you still here_, or worst of all, _this needs to be over, we can't do this anymore_. But he doesn't say any of that, he just looks at her.

"Guess we're pretty shit at sneaking around, yeah?" He quietly says, breaking the silence.

She coughs to clear her throat, running her hands through her hair to clear out the tangles. She screws up her mouth, trying to plan her exit strategy. This wasn't supposed to happen.

He catches her hands in his, trying to stop her awkward fidgeting. _Gods, he must hate me right now. _

"Hey," he says softly, still holding her hands in his. "Hey it's gonna be okay."

She wants to scream — with embarrassment, with anger, with self loathing — because all she can think about is the way her heart skips a beat when he's holding her hands like this.

"What happens now?" She manages to croak out, her throat in a vice grip.

He lets out a sigh of exasperation, letting go of her hands to run his own through his thoroughly mussed up hair. His lips are swollen from their fervent kissing the night before, and his face has pulled tight, all relaxation from minutes ago washed away.

"Well, I've never gotten trapped with my best friend's sister in my bed before, so..." His voice trails off and he is smiling. She knows it's a joke but she feels mortified all the same.

"Jon, this is serious," she hisses through gritted teeth.

"Relax, if he knew it was you, he'd have broken the door down by now." He says softly, still smiling, his breath tickling against her ear. 

And she shouldn't, really shouldn't. She should push him away, and run out the door while she still can. She should end this, right now, and never talk to Jon again. If she doesn't, he'll definitely break her heart.

But his tongue darts out and licks at the bruises on her neck from last night, and his hands start to roam her still naked body. And they're cupping her breasts, and before she knows it her own hands are twined in his hair, and his eyes are darker than a summer thunderstorm.

"Why do you feel so good," she whimpers out, fingers trailing up and down his toned chest, his beard scratching against her body as he leans down to take one of her nipples in his mouth.

He licks and sucks and lightly bites it, causing Sansa to let out a little yelp, her hips bucking reflexively towards him.

"Could ask you the same," he murmurs, moving to her other nipple, guiding her to lie back down on the bed, him hovering above her. She turns to watch his arm muscles flex with the effort of supporting his weight, and reaches out to squeeze his biceps reassuringly.

He grins against her chest and moves to her neck again, pausing to breathe in the scent of her hair deeply. "Why do you smell so good, all the time. It's cause of you I can't look at lemons without getting hard."

She giggles, happy to know he's so affected by her, gods know she is by him.

The door to the bathroom clicks open and shut and Robb's bedroom door closes. Sansa freezes again, like a deer in headlights.

"I should go, while I still can."

"I wish you wouldn't." He's burying his face in her hair now, his hands low on her stomach and hips, and his fingers are creating a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Her heart is doing that terrible swooping thing again, and she wants to parrot back to him what he said last night; that he's going to give her the wrong idea if he keeps talking like this.

"If you stay, I'll make you whatever you want for breakfast, anything you want." His voice is muffled by her skin, and she has to stifle a moan. _I want you._

She smiles shyly, biting her lip. "What if I want lemoncakes?"

He groans, and dips his hips into hers, and she can feel his erection, insistent upon her stomach, heavy and thick. "Anything you want." He smiles then and kisses her deep and long, his tongue probing her. "Can't promise they'll be worth shit though, never been one for baking."

This feels different, different than any other time they've fucked, and not just because Robb is in the next room. It's because he asked her to stay, because of the way he's looking at her — like she's a princess or a goddess. It's morning and her hair is a mess and her face is swollen and puffy and she must have morning breath, but none of that seems to matter to him.

"I could teach you," she says tentatively. "I could teach you how to bake them."

He runs his hands through her hair, letting them fall on either side of her face, framing her underneath him. "I would love that, Sansa." His voice is low, still quiet, and thick with need.

Another knock at the bedroom door causes Sansa to freeze once more, even though she knows the door is locked. It's like what they're doing is wrong. But it kind of is isn't it?

"Uh, Jon," Robb's voice carries through the door. "We're heading out now, see you later tonight, yeah?"

"Have fun you two." Jeyne's voice rings playfully out in the air, and suddenly they both are staring into each other's eyes, afraid they've been found out.

"There's no way she knows," she whispers into his ear, feeling his breath catch in his throat.

The front door shuts, and the lock turns, and before she knows it, Jon's lips collide into hers in a frenzy.

Sansa reaches for his hair, holding his head to hers, their tongues intermingled, and his hands are everywhere, all at once.

He breaks away from the kiss, looking intently at her, and his longing stare is enough to make that familiar ache, that delightful throbbing come back between her legs. "How do you want it?" He asks, his hands already trailing distinctly south.

"Slowly," she says, her voice trailing off into a whine as he begins to leave soft open-mouthed kisses to her breasts, and down her stomach. She stops him from continuing down any more, pulling him back up to her.

He looks a little hurt and confused by her actions, but his face morphs into one of pleasure when she begins to slowly stroke his cock as he braces himself above her. "Gods," he breathes, "so good."

The skin is velvety soft, contrasting the hard muscle underneath, and she finds herself licking her lips. "Lie down," she says, exalted to see the look on his face.

He lies down beside her, and Sansa moves to straddle his legs, thankful for the friction his thigh provides to the throbbing ache she feels down low. She takes his cock in her mouth gently at first and begins to lick and suck at the head of it. Jon groans loudly, his hands carding through her hair.

She smiles around his cock, moving her mouth to slowly lick up and down the thick length of it, loving the groans and moans he gives out in reply.

"Christ Sansa, you're going to unman me," he grinds out, trying to still himself from bucking into her. She takes his whole cock in her mouth then, sucking and slurping at it gently, slowly. His hands are more insistent in her hair now, guiding her movements, trying to speed her up, but she won't let him.

"I need you now," he groans out, and she is secretly thankful, unsure how much longer she can hold out from her own pleasure. His hands go to her hips, and lift her up over his cock. "Whenever you're ready, sweet girl."

Sansa smiles, enjoying the control of it. She grinds her wetness against his cock, up and down, and this time he does buck up against her, his fingers tight around her waist.

She slowly lowers herself down on his cock, acclimating to his girth, letting out a breathy sigh of relief and pleasure. His moans intermingle with hers as she sets a painfully slow pace. "So good," he murmurs, "but too slow".

His arms encircle her and flip them around so he is above her, and he begins to thrust just a little bit faster. His eyes lock with hers, and they look at each other for just a moment.

_We've never done this before, it's never felt like this before_. Her heart is beating out of her chest, and his hand goes to her face, cupping her cheek. Jon leans in to kiss her, softly, lovingly, and she melts into him.

He reaches down to her pussy, finding that sweet spot, and begins to softly stroke it. "Will you come for me, Sansa?" He whispers into her ear, and she feels her body begin to shudder against him.

His thrusts are deep and slow and so painfully good, and his eyes are so dark it feels like he is possessing her completely, like there is nothing left to hide. Her peak comes in waves, crashing over her, rendering her to sobs of pleasure.

"Mmmm that's right, sweet girl," he murmurs, lost in his own pleasure now. He begins to thrust harder into her, groaning and biting at her neck. She digs her fingernails into his back trying to ground herself, to come back down to earth. He follows soon after, spending inside her with a moan of enjoyment.

He lies back down beside her, pulling her in close, pressing kisses to her face and neck_. It's never been like this, this is... something more_, she thinks, trying to still her heartbeat.

"Have dinner with me tomorrow," he whispers into her ear. Sansa's face downturns in confusion, wondering why he's asked this, whether it's even what he actually wants.

His face darkens with a frown. "Unless, you don't want to?"

"No, no!" Sansa says quickly. "It's just... I thought you didn't..." She bites her lip again, knowing it's a terrible tell, because his face lifts from its frown. "I thought you wanted this to be casual."

He smiles, pulling her even closer to him. "Gods, no. No, Sansa, I thought that's what you wanted. I never thought you'd actually want me." He swallows hard, she can feel his throat constricting against her skin. "Why would you ever want to be with a guy like me?"

And suddenly, it flips like a light switch, and she sees it all so clearly. The lingering looks, the way he touches her arm, brushing against her skin, the way he always cheers her up after a bad day, the way he whispers in her ear, all the excuses to tag along with Robb to see her.

Sansa smiles wider than she thinks she ever has, holding her body against his as tight as she can. "Because you are good, and kind, and damningly hot." He lets out a quiet snort of appreciation, grinning.

"So dinner, tomorrow, yeah?"

Sansa nuzzles into him, smelling his scent, slightly salty with sweat. "Yeah."

\--

Later that evening, Jon is sitting on the couch watching TV when Robb comes back in the door, a wide grin on his face.

"What're you so happy about?" Jon calls out, turning back to the TV.

Robbs begins to chuckle as he goes to the fridge and pulls out two beers. He opens them and hands one to Jon. Jon takes a healthy swig to calm his nerves.

"So, should I give you the don't break my sister's heart talk, or the I have to be best man at the wedding talk?"

Jon sputters, spitting out his beer.

Robb sits down beside him, placing his hand on Jon's shoulder. "You think I can't recognize my own sister's jacket? Like I said, you two are not nearly as smart as you think you are." He laughs, patting Jon's shoulder before stealing the remote.

"Just please tell me you won't hurt her, or I will have to kill you."

Jon thinks about Sansa and her soft auburn hair. He thinks of how she looks in the morning, wild and free, and how she looks when she comes. He thinks of the way she kisses him, and touches him, and the way she smiles with her whole face, lighting up every room with radiance. "I would never."

Jon smiles, and Robb rolls his eyes. "Nothing worse than two fools in love." He shakes his head, and looks back at the TV, grinning the whole time.


End file.
